


Pretty Little Picture

by Anonymous



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art Major Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Bisexual Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Confessions, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Fantasizing, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Marc Anciel, Gay Sex, Getting Together, Grinding, Groping, Light Dom/sub, Love Bites, M/M, Making Love, Making Out, Marc and Nathaniel are College Students, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Nude Model Marc Anciel, Oneshot, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Shower Sex, Simultaneous Orgasm, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, wholesome bois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27254917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Marc leads a busy life as an English Major, a Nude modelist, and a creator on OnlyFans. When he has time, he finds inspiration for his stories through his favorite Instagram artist, Mighty_Illustrator.He's lucky, it seems, to find himself modeling for a class with a very attractive redhead named Nathaniel Kurtzberg.Nathaniel, on the other hand, is panicking as he realizes the person he's followed on OnlyFans since forever is going to be modeling for his class.
Relationships: Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Comments: 24
Kudos: 70
Collections: Anonymous





	Pretty Little Picture

* * *

Nathaniel wakes up to his phone alarm ringing in his ear.

He hates the sound. It was called "Ocean Breeze" on the list of alarm soundtracks and it sounded like a jet engine and a mauled cat competing for attention.

Nathaniel stubbornly pulls his pillow over his head and tries to go back to sleep. He still has at least an hour before he has to go to school, and it's not like anyone's gonna notice if he doesn't show up, anyway.

One of the few benefits of being an unnoticeable wallflower-sometimes you can skip class and no one cares.

He'd even managed to score himself his own dorm room when he enrolled, which meant no roommates to worry about.

The next sound makes Nathaniel bolt straight up out of his bed, grabbing his phone.

It's a notification from his Onlyfans account.

There's only one person he's subscribed to.

Nathaniel's heartrate is suddenly much more active, scrambling to open his phone. His exhaustion from drawing until three am is now replaced with adrenaline.

It's a new picture from ReverseRainbow. Nathaniel's been following their account for months now, and yet each new photo is somehow always more thrilling than the last.

ReverseRainbow doesn't post NSFW pictures, but he seems to have a knack for knowing just how close to ease the line to make people want more, to keep his community interested.

Nathaniel's breath hitches as the picture loads. It's of Rev, sitting completely nude in a black and white room.

His knees are positioned just so, barely covering his genitals, showing off the smooth, tanned skin of his long legs. Rev's back is arched, head tilted towards the sky, his neck adorned with a glittering rainbow choker.

God, he looks hot.

Rev's a very attractive person. It's why his account is so popular even if he only posts teasing pictures.

Nathaniel can't help but daydream as his eyes rove over every inch of his exposed skin, the lithe muscles, the way his hair frames his face, his emerald green eyes, barely visible under thick lashes...

Nathaniel can feel the blood rushing to both his head and his...well... _head._

Well, he's got an hour before he has to go to school. That's more than enough time to deal with this.

* * *

Even with an hour to get ready, Nathaniel is almost late for class.

He sprints across campus, the cold air biting his nose and face. True, he _could_ have skipped class, but Nathaniel actually enjoyed lessons with this professor, even though his lectures were torturously early in the morning.

"Good morning, Nathaniel," Professor Carracci says as Nathaniel bolts through the door, mumbling an apology.

Nathaniel slides into his seat, keeping his head low as the art teacher begins his lecture for the day.

Part of the reason he likes Mr. Carracci so much is because the old teacher lets him draw during his lectures. It helps him keep his hands busy when he isn't taking notes.

There's a piece that he's been working on in his sketchbook for the past few days, of a fantasy city with long, winding streets. It's almost complete now, he just has to add a few more details in before he can post it online.

As he sketches, Nathaniel tries to balance his attention between his art, his professor's lecture, and his memory of the new picture from Rev that keeps returning to his mind.

Nathaniel almost considers losing himself in a daydream. He's done it before, abandoning all attention to the classroom so he can let his imagination wander around the mysterious and alluring model. Just thinking about Rev's feather-like hair and pretty face brings a warm pressure to his navel.

Nathaniel quickly squashes those feelings down. He can save those horny thoughts for later, in the privacy of his own dorm room.

The rest of the lecture hour passes by smoothly. Nathaniel's notes are messy as he balances his sketchbook and his notebook on a too-small desk, but they're legible enough and the drawing is practically complete.

"Alright, class," Mr. Carracci says as the classroom begins to pack up for the day. "Don't forget that tomorrow we're doing a nude modeling session at nine in room 233. Take care!"

Nathaniel hoists his backpack over his shoulder. He's got about an hour before his next class. Might as well post it now so he doesn't forget to later.

* * *

Marc stretches, giving a satisfied hum as his vertebrae pops.

It's not every day he manages to finish writing an essay so early in the morning. He should enjoy the weight of responsibilty being lifted from his shoulders while it lasts.

Leaving his laptop, the writer steps out into the balcony of his apartment.

It's not a very big apartment by any means, but Marc doesn't need it to be. He's lucky to have this place at all, so close to the college campus and his new part-time job. His work on Onlyfans helps pay the bills, sure, but it was always nice to have a little extra change in his pocket.

The air feels colder. Marc decides that the balcony, while a romantic place to lean out of and gaze wistfully at the world below, is also not a practical place to be hanging out in booty shorts and a tank top.

Circling back to his laptop, Marc opens some of his go-to social media sites.

And that's when he sees the new art piece.

Suddenly more attentive, the black-haired man zones in on the new picture by his favorite Instagram artist, Mighty_Illustrator.

A wistful sigh escapes his lips as his eyes travel across the illustration of a fantasy city. Even on such a small picture, the artist manages to bring so much of it to life, with hundreds of little details that keep the picture new and interesting no matter how many times Marc looks at it, little tidbits of treasure hidden in every photo.

Something about Might's art always manages to inspire him, as though the artist's sketches spoke to his very soul. Even the face reveal he's done last month still makes Marc's heart thud like a jackrabbit when he looks at it.

Opening a new word document on his laptop, Marc starts writing.

He _definitely_ wasn't going to be wasting his morning today.

* * *

Nathaniel, by some stroke of luck, manages to be early for the next day's nude modeling session.

He yawns, scanning the room with unfocused eyes. There are a few other students already sitting at their un-officially claimed easels, most of them on their phones. Mr. Carraci is sitting at his desk, struggling with making his presentation appear through the projector.

There's someone else, too, sitting on a stool at the front of the room, wearing a soft-looking red robe. They look vaguely familiar. Probably the nude model.

Nathaniel can't shake the feeling that he knows them from somewhere. An old friend? Somebody he's seen walking across campus before?

The model turns around and Nathaniel freezes.

No.

There's no way in hell.

How the fuck-

Nathaniel swallows the lump in his throat, quickly averting his gaze before anyone can notice how flustered he looks.

He slides into a seat, heart hammering, and hopes that no one can see the red blush rising to his face.

His eyes flit upward, and he almost squeaks as his eyes connect with the shiny emerald pupils of _Rev himself._

_Fuck, Rev was looking right at him_.

Nathaniel's certain his face is burning right now. His mind is completely blank, full of dizzy, half-conjoined thoughts and wondering how, _how the fuck is Rev sitting right in front of him_?

"It's completely normal to feel embarrassed," Mr. Carracci says, and Nath knows he's looking at him and his hunched frame.

Nath wants to curl up in a ball and shrivel into the floor.

* * *

It's him.

Oh my god, it's him.

Marc is certain the rest of the class can hear the thrumming staccato of his beating heart, but he doesn't care, his eyes transfixed on the redhead sitting behind the easel.

His face is hidden behind the large paper, but Marc can see the tips of his beet-red ears. So he's the modest type, huh?

There's no doubt about it, this is Might. It's not like many people sport red hair and blue eyes, anyway, so his face is easily recognizable.

"Alright, class," the Art Teacher begins. "It's nine o'clock."

As he begins instructing the class, Marc lets his eyes lazily rove over the rest of the classroom before settling back on the red-haired artist. He's looking at Mr. Carracci with a very fixed expression, shoulders tense and tight like a bowstring.

It's unexpectedly alluring. Or maybe it's just that the artist gives off a general aura of attractiveness.

Maybe he should talk to him after class. Marc considers this for a moment before the anxiety twinges in his chest and makes his stomach twist terribly.

It's almost funny how awkward he is in social situations. He should be accustomed to shame by now, heck, both his jobs include nudity! But it's easy to strip naked for a camera or a modeling session. There's a pre-determined set of what's expected and an easily estimable result.

Talking to people is different. There's an endless amount of ways a conversation can go wrong that can fuck up your day or even your whole life if you're bad enough at talking. Just thinking about it sends Marc into a spiral of all the ways their conversation could go wrong.

He takes a deep breath and smiles, relying on his well-practiced model face to hide the churning anxiety in his heart.

* * *

Nathaniel is barely listening to Professor Carracci's explanation. The only thoughts in his mind are _don't make eye contact with Rev, don't let on you recognize him, and for fuck's sake, do not get a boner in class_.

"I'd like to introduce you all to Marc," the teacher says, gesturing to the model on the bench. "He'll be our nude model for this semester, so please be respectful. Cell phones are strictly prohibited at this time, so if you have one with you, make sure it's kept in your bag."

So that's his name. Marc.

Nathaniel feels like he's seeing something he wasn't meant to see, peeking behind the curtain of Rev's anonymity and getting a better glimpse of the person behind the account. It's an equally thrilling and terrifying experience.

ReverseRainbow's entire schtick is posting photos that toe the line without actually showing anything, and here he is about to see everything.

Hell, he knows there are probably several other fans who would kill to be in the position Nathaniel is in right now.

And _boy, he's getting a better glimpse of the person behind the account alright_.

Marc casually shrugs the robe off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Nathaniel swallows the lump in his throat, glancing at the other students in the room before his eyes have the chance to zero in on what's right in front of him.

Some of the other students are also looking away, glancing at each other with nervous grins. Others are already sketching, dedicated to approaching this professionally.

Nathaniel takes a deep breath and fixes his eyes on Marc, fighting past the growing heat rising to his face.

This isn't his social media, Nathaniel reminds himself sternly. This isn't meant to be sexy. It's for school. School isn't sexy at all.

Marc is kind of sexy, though.

Even without trying he still looks really attractive, the lean curves of his body accentuating his tanned skin all the way down to his-

Nathaniel bites his lip and tries not to show how obviously hot and flustered he's getting. It takes all his willpower to keep his composure and draw like a normal art student.

As he begins sketching the basic shapes of Marc's body, he glances up and sees the model looking at him again.

Fuck, does he know?

No, no, how would he know?

He can feel the sweat dripping down his face. Marc's eyes flit away, as though he were just casually glancing around the room.

Unlike the obviously seductive poses he uses for his account, Marc's pose is relaxed, more natural. Nathaniel relaxes a little as he lets himself get pulled into the rhythm of observing and drawing, the tension slowly easing from his body as he gets lost in the smell of graphite and the sound of pencil on paper.

Before he knows it, the hour is over. Nathaniel blinks, taken aback as he glances to the clock on the wall.

It felt like almost no time had passed at all.

Regretfully, Nathaniel sets his pencil aside and starts packing up.

He's got a lot to think about during the rest of the school day.

* * *

This is it, Marc thinks as he wraps the robe back around his body. He'd been mentally psyching himself up the whole hour. Time to go talk to the cute artist boy.

Okay, okay, okay. No biggie.

Just go talk to him.

It'll be easy, like a walk in the park.

Except it's a dog park.

And the dogs are all feral.

And they have rabies.

And they're addicted to the taste of human flesh.

And the park is on fire.

Marc takes a deep breath, summons his courage, and steps directly into the boy's path.

"Hello," he starts, and instantly regrets it when the boy all but jolts away, eyes widening.

"O-oh, yeah, hi, it's fine," the redhead stammers out, clutching his bag. "Marc, w-was it?"

Marc nods, not trusting himself to speak for fear of stumbling over his own words.

"I'm Nathaniel," the other continues, a smile pursing through his lips.

The artist boy is shorter than Marc had expected, the slightest hint of freckles dotting his defined cheekbones. The bright blue iris not hidden beneath his bangs gleams at Marc with an intensity that makes his heart race.

Marc is tempted to tell Nathaniel that he adores his art, that he follows the boy's Instagram, that he thinks the red-head looks cute-

What comes out instead is, "uh...well...you...yeah."

Nathaniel tilts his head curiously, brow furrowed. For a moment his eyes flick down to the bit of exposed chest that Marc is showing, before he tenses again and looks back up.

Well, that's interesting.

That moment of break in the artist's casual demeanor gives Marc enough courage to stutter out "S-so, you're an art student, huh?"

Nathaniel blinks. "Well, I'd hope so," he jokes, flashing a smile at the model.

Marc finds himself smiling back before he can help himself. "Cool," he says. "See you around."

"Yeah," Nathaniel says, waving a casual hand goodbye as he heads for the door.

Marc hangs back, watching him go. He could have offered to walk with him, but he's only dressed in a robe and that probably wouldn't fly well with campus security.

With a sigh, he goes to his backpack behind a curtain and pulls out his clothes, starting the process of getting changed.

"You seemed interested in Nathaniel," Mr. Carracci says with a light air in his voice. Marc can't see him through the curtain but he can hear the amused smile in the old man's tone.

"He...seemed cool," Marc defends, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks.

"He's a nice boy," the teacher continues. "I can see why the two of you got along so quickly."

Marc's head is whirling at the implications of the teacher. Getting along? Did that mean Nathaniel wasn't like this to everyone? What did "getting along" even mean by Mr. Carracci's definition?

Fully dressed now, he steps out from behind the curtain. The teacher gives him a nod, still busy collecting papers from his desk, a pair of spectacles perched on the end of his nose as he reviews the small writing.

"Take care," the teacher says, giving him a kind smile.

"You too," Marc responds on reflex, making his way out the door, hoping a little bit that he can still catch sight of a hint of red hair.

He's a little disappointed but not surprised when he doesn't catch sight of the artist.

Oh well. Marc hoists the backpack higher on his shoulders. He has classes of his own to get to.

* * *

Nathaniel manages to keep his cool around Marc.

As a few weeks pass by, he manages not to turn red in the face every time he enters the classroom. They even manage to get set in a social pattern, where Marc would cheerily wave goodbye to Nath as he leaves, and Nath would respond in turn. Sometimes they even hold short conversations before Nathaniel leaves for the rest of his classes.

It gave him a sense of pride to note that Marc never did the same thing for any of the other students. It's like they're friends in the most subjective definition of the word.

Then ReverseRainbow posts another photo and everything goes skewed sideways again.

The moment Nathaniel sees the photo he knows he's fucked. And not in the good way, either.

Rev-no, _Marc_ , is leaning against a doorframe, wearing a lace halter top that barely covers his chest and matching underwear, accompanied by a pair of black, knee-high boots.

The look that he gives to the camera is a startling shock from the innocent face that Nathaniel had grown accustomed to seeing.

Christ, he'd forgotten that Marc could make eyes like that. It made his heart flutter just by looking at the photo.

If Marc ever gave him those eyes in person...

Nathaniel shakes his head. He can't start having thoughts like this again, it'll just distract him from his schoolwork.

Even as he sets his pencil to paper, his mind betrays him, wandering off towards forbidden thoughts. He could visualize that dreamy look on Marc's face much too easily, pinned beneath him on a mattress, or looking up at him while on his knees, those soft pink lips wrapped around his cock.

Nathaniel has abandoned all thought of doing schoolwork now. One hand slips below the desk, stroking his quickly hardening member as he tries to imagine what kind of sounds Marc would make.

Would he be shy? A sweet but blushy mess as he sucks Nath off? Or would he be more confident, grinning cheekily as he takes Nath's cock in his mouth, rendering the artist utterly helpless against his ministrations?

Nathaniel's hand is moving at an erratic pace now, panting for breath as he imagines those shiny pink lips slick with spit and sliding up and down his cock, faster and more fervent-

Nathaniel comes, groaning as his hips buck into the air. He sinks back into his chair, eyes glazed over as he comes down from his orgasm.

The feeling of bliss is soon replaced by guilt building in his gut. Sure, he's jacked off to pictures of the model before, but now that he knows Marc in person, it feels different. Wrong, even.

Goddammit, there's a mess under his desk.

With a sigh, Nathaniel sets to cleaning up his workspace, determined to focus on his schoolwork and not think about Marc like...like _that_ if he can help it.

As far as he's concerned, Marc and Rev are completely different people.

* * *

"Hey," Marc says, approaching Nathaniel after a session. "I...uh...I have a favor to ask of you."

Nathaniel pauses, in the process of stuffing his sketchbook into his backpack. "Sure," he says, eyeing the model as his mind whirls in a thousand different directions. "What do you need?"

The raven-haired boy clutches the edges of his robe, hugging them against himself. "So..." he begins, cheeks darkening as he ducks his head and looks up at the artist shyly, "I was wondering...would you like to go out for lunch this afternoon? We don't really get the chance to talk often so..."

"Yes!" Nath blurts, a bit too enthusiastically. "I mean, yes, of course. I would love that!"

The model visibly brightens. "Great!" He turns and rushes behind a curtain, soon returning with a phone in his hands. "Let's share contact info so we can schedule," he says. "One of my classes canceled so I'm done at noon today."

"I've got classes until three," Nathaniel says, exchanging phone numbers with Marc. "Would three-fifteen work for you?"

The raven-haired model nods, emerald eyes shining. "I'll be waiting in the library," he says, bouncing a little on his toes as he turns and walks away. It's an unexpectedly cute gesture.

It's not fair for Marc to be cute, pretty, _and_ hot all at the same time.

* * *

By the time three-fifteen rolls around, Nathaniel is _starving_ and Marc is nowhere to be found.

He scans the library entrance, his stomach growling impatiently. Marc had texted him, saying he was at the front, but _where?_

Was it a joke? Had Marc lied to him, or stood him up?

The thought made his stomach clench terribly, and he starts looking around more desperately, hoping he's just hidden behind a bookshelf or on the second floor-

"Uh...Nathaniel?"

Nathaniel snaps out of his thoughts, instantly honing in on the familiar voice. There's someone sitting on a couch no less than six feet away, waving a hand to get his attention.

He blinks again. "Marc?"

Marc giggles at his slack-jawed expression, standing up and stretching. He's wearing a black leather jacket and a simple t-shirt with some kind of punk-rock logo on it that Nathaniel doesn't recognize. Around his neck hangs a shiny rainbow choker that Nathaniel recognizes all too well from one of...well...Rev's photos. Coupled with a pair of skinny jeans and some knee-high boots, he makes quite a striking figure.

"S-sorry," Nath says, all too aware of how long his eyes have been roving up and down Marc's figure. "It's just that I've never really seen you...well... _with clothes on_."

Oh god, that sounds weird.

Nathaniel ducks his head, regretting everything he'd just said, but Marc's smile only widens as a laugh burst from his lips, sudden and startling and echoing through the library.

Marc winces apologetically as several people look up from their work. Mouthing a 'sorry', he grabs Nathaniel by the arm and drags him outside.

"So," the model says, letting go of Nath's arm. "I'm a bit peckish."

Nathaniel raises his eyebrows unamusedly. "You're peckish?"

"Famished," Marc corrects. "Absolutely starving. Got any preferences on where to eat?"

Nathaniel hums. "I know they've got a Subway on campus that has Kosher options," he says, stomach rumbling rebelliously at the mere mention of food.

"Oooh, Subway," Marc sighs. "Definitely."

* * *

The interior of the small store is crowded, so they end up finding a table outside to eat and talk.

It's a little chilly, but not too uncomfortable. Their table is also in the center of a little grove of brush and trees, providing a welcome bit of privacy for them.

"So," Nathaniel says, trying to sound interested in Marc's life but not to a creepy extent. "Do you go to school here?"

"Hmm? Yeah," Marc says, already halfway through demolishing his sandwich. "I'm an English Major."

"Really? Are you planning to be a writer or something?"

Marc pauses, swallowing his food. "Yeah," he says. "No one outside of my class really takes me seriously, though."

Nathaniel blinks.

"I mean, most people are like 'why do writing when you should go into modeling' and stuff like that, and that's fine, I guess, but..." Marc rests his chin in his palm, sighing wistfully. "I love writing. I'd rather chase my own dreams than the dreams everyone else has for me."

"Well, what do you like writing about?"

Marc's eyes brighten, and soon he's talking at a pace almost too rapid for Nathaniel to catch up to.

If heart eyes were an actual thing, Nathaniel is almost certain he'd be making them right now.

He listens as Marc continues talking, his food forgotten in front of him as he pays attention to every word Marc says.

"And I mean there's a lot of preconceived notions about how the fantasy genre should be..." Marc trails off, suddenly flushing a deep scarlet. "Sorry," he says, tucking his hands in his lap and looking at the ground. "I was rambling, wasn't I?"

"You're fine," Nathaniel reassures, but Marc only bites his lip and turns back to his food, color still high on his cheeks.

Marc really was a lot shyer than he let on.

"I've been wondering," Nathaniel begins, once he realizes Marc isn't going to continue talking. "Why does our class need you to pose nude? I mean, at the moment we're only working on face and upper torso sketches."

Marc twirled the straw around his cup. "This school pays nude models more than clothed ones, and Mr. Carracci theorizes that it helps the class adjust easier to nudity if they deal with it from the start. So, I get extra cash, and you and your classmates get used to seeing my junk."

Nath fumbles for his words for a bit.

Marc's eyes flit up to him, a half-crooked smile on his face. "I'd say his theory was right," he continues. "After all, the first time we met you were bright red like a tomato."

"I was...well..." Nathaniel decides it's best not to try and defend himself. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about the nudity, it was the fact that he had met one of his celebrity crushes in real life-but that wasn't something he was going to admit out loud. Not if he wanted to keep Marc as his friend.

"But look how far you've come," Marc reassures. "You hardly ever get flustered anymore!"

"Was it that obvious?" Nath mumbles, resisting the urge to hide his face.

Marc winces. "A little."

"Oh no."

* * *

Marc has to admit, he kind of enjoys seeing Nathaniel so flustered like this.

Asking Nathaniel to eat lunch with him, while a heart-thudding and anxiety-inducing plan in theory, has turned out to be one of his best decisions so far.

The deep blush in the artist's face brings the faint spattering of freckles on his face to light.

This is it.

This is where he convinces Nathaniel to show him more of his art.

The pictures on Mighty_Illustrator's Instagram, the half-complete sketches that Marc sees when walking into the classroom, they all leave him wanting more.

Marc is determined to find out why, crack the puzzle as to how Nathaniel's art manages to speak to his very being and inspire him like no other pieces have.

"Well," he says, leaning forward and giving his most charming smile to the artist. "I've seen how you get when you draw. You get so focused, like you're in your own little world. How's being an Art Major for you?"

Nathaniel's eyes lock with his. "I like it," he says, in a tone that suggests the statement has more to it than face value.

Marc catches his tone instantly. "You like it...but?"

"But it's frustrating," Nath sighs, slumping in his seat. "I'm eager to move on to poses and stuff, but we're still working on basic anatomy. And I'm glad I have you there to work on that, but I'm also a little impatient to do more, y'know?"

"I could help you," Marc says, before his brain can fully comprehend what he's signing himself up for.

Nath's head snaps up instantly.

"I mean, I could pose for you. Outside of class hours," Marc says, already digging himself into a deeper hole.

Shut up. Shut up. Stop talking.

Despite his fight-or-flight instincts shooting through the roof, Marc stays rooted to his seat and keeps rambling. "I'm interested to see what you create, what kind of art you make outside of classes. From what I've seen, I think you have talent, and I'd like to see what comes from that."

Nathaniel is staring at him, open-mouthed.

Well he's just gone and fucked shit up, hasn't he?

Mission failed, everyone. Time to go home and pretend the entire concept of living isn't a thing that exists for the rest of the afternoon.

"You would do that for me?" Nathaniel whispers. "I mean...thank you!"

Oh?

Mission...success?

"I don't have any homework that needs to be done immediately," Marc says, seizing the opportunity by the throat and running with it. "I...I can pose for you today if you'd like."

"My d-dorm isn't too far from here," Nathaniel says. "I don't know what to..." he gives a quiet, disbelieving giggle into his hand. "This means a lot to me, Marc."

"Sure," Marc says, beaming. "What are friends for?"

"Friends," Nath mutters, tucking a strand of bright red hair behind his ear. Marc's heart does acrobatics.

Once lunch is finished and cleaned up, the two make their way towards Nathaniel's dorm room.

Marc, for one, is very pleased with how his plan is progressing.

* * *

Oh shit oh fuck Marc's going to be modeling in _his room_ _shit shit dammit holy fucking cock and ass-_

Nathaniel is trying not to internally combust as they walk towards the dorms. He feels like a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the timer to run out and eliminate him from the face of the earth.

Did he remember to clean his room? His bed definitely isn't made. Where is Marc going to sit? What if rumors start spreading about them?

Nathaniel nearly drops his student ID as he unlocks the door and welcomes Marc inside, sneaking a quick glance beforehand to make sure there's nothing incriminating or embarrassing on display.

It's...decent. Not clean, but decent.

Nathaniel cringes at the messy array of sketchbooks and art supplies and textbooks sprawled across every surface, invading entire sections of the floor and overflowing onto the second unused bed in the room.

Marc glances at the second bed with interest. "Are you sure your...roommate won't be coming by anytime soon?"

Nathaniel glances up from trying to hastily tidy the room a little more. "Oh, I don't have a roommate," he says, waving a hand. "I ended up as the odd number or my would-be roommate dropped out or something like that, I don't remember."

Marc nods, scanning the multiple artworks-in-progress. "You have a beautiful art style," he says, eyes gleaming like gemstones.

"Th-thanks." Nathaniel smooths the blankets on one corner of his bed, grabbing his go-to sketchbook from the desk and finally turning to face Marc. "So...um..."

Marc is going to be naked and in his room.

Nathaniel has never been so stressed in his life.

"Is there a specific pose you want to try?" Marc asks, blinking innocently at him. Nath's thoughts are far from innocent at this point, but _dammit_ he's not going to take advantage of the model's friendship.

"Whatever...whatever works best for you," Nath responds, his throat suddenly dry.

Marc nods. "Okay. If you could...uh...turn around please."

Nathaniel's heartbeat skyrockets.

He all but whips around to face the wall, clutching the sketchbook to his chest.

This isn't like the modeling class at all. The energy in the air feels charged, or maybe it's just his imagination.

It's more intimate like this. That's the scariest part.

"Okay," Marc says, after a moment. "You can look now."

Nathaniel is afraid to turn around, but he does so anyway.

Marc is sitting down on the corner of the bed that he'd made, ankles crossed and _fully nude_.

Well, not entirely. He's still wearing the rainbow choker.

Nathaniel's breath freezes in his chest. He can feel his pulse quicken as his blood quickly rushes south.

Marc's eyes are half-lidded, a coy smile dancing across his pink lips. "I know it's awkward," he says, "but you'll get used to it."

"Right," Nath squeaks. "I'm...embarrassed."

He's _not,_ though.

He's fucking turned on.

Legs shaking, Nathaniel takes a seat in his desk chair and starts sketching the basic shapes of Marc's figure.

It's so much worse when Marc is looking directly at him.

There are only two possible reasons for why Marc was doing this. At least, two reasons that he could think of.

One, he knows Nathaniel is crushing on him and is playing with his feelings, toeing the line and intentionally making Nathaniel flustered and horny.

Two, he's completely innocent and oblivious to what he was doing to Nath, honestly helping Nath out of good will.

Both options are agonizingly painful for Nathaniel.

"It's a little boring just sitting here," Marc said, glancing around the room. "Y'know, there's no rules that say we can't chat during this time."

"Guess not," Nathaniel says. "Whaddya want to talk about?"

Through sheer determination, Nathaniel manages to ignore his instinctual feelings and focus on drawing and talking with the model.

At least he can do those things right. He turns a little red in the face again as he works on sketching Marc's crotch region, but Marc only smiles and assures him that he'll get used to it in time.

Nathaniel can feel the beginning of an erection growing tight against his pants, but he keeps himself stubbornly in check, using his sketchbook to hide how obviously the model is affecting him.

"I think we're done for today," Nathaniel finally declares, closing his sketchbook and keeping it firmly over his lap. "Thanks for your help."

Marc stretches, making a satisfied noise in the back of his throat that makes Nathaniel's cock twitch rebelliously. "It was nice talking to you," he says, grabbing his clothing and getting redressed while Nathaniel averts his eyes. "It's a lot less boring than the class sessions when you can talk to someone."

"Well, you get paid for the class sessions," Nathaniel responds.

"True, true." Marc's footsteps pass by his chair, and the artist looks up to see him fully dressed, backpack slung over his shoulder. "Let me know if you ever want to do this again," he says, smiling.

"Will do," Nathaniel rasps, watching as Marc leaves his room.

And then he's gone.

Shaking, Nathaniel leans back in his chair, closing his eyes and his hand wanders down to palm at his member.

It's not just Rev that makes him like this, Nathaniel realizes. It's Marc, too.

Both sides of Marc make him flustered and horny and it's torture.

Christ, and now he's jacking off while thinking of Marc _again_.

It's fine, Nathaniel decides, panting as he strokes himself to full hardness. As long as Marc doesn't know how much Nathaniel wants him, he'll be okay.

He won't ruin his friendship with Marc. He's determined not to.

But whatever happens behind closed doors stays behind closed doors.

* * *

Nathaniel is just a friend.

Marc is almost completely certain of that.

He poses for Nathaniel's art, and in return they get to talk and Marc even gets to see some of the sketches Nathaniel has never shown on his social media.

It's an equal trade, as far as Marc is concerned.

At least, that's what he thought.

Three weeks after they set up this schedule, something unexpected happens.

* * *

"N-Nathaniel, _agh,_ " Marc pants, skin slick with sweat as he pants for breath. His toes curl, trying to find purchase in the sheets of his bed.

Nathaniel hums, his one visible blue eye dark with lust as he presses a kiss to the inside of Marc's left thigh. "It's okay, darling," he purrs, teeth nipping at the tanned skin. "I've got you."

Marc's hips buck in the air, but Nathaniel pulls away, lightly slapping his knee. "Don't move," he scolds, a crooked smile on his face.

"Nath... _Nath, please,_ " Marc begs, chest heaving. His cock is painfully hard. "Please, Nath, I-I need-"

"I'll give you what you need," Nathaniel assures, grinning like the devil from his throne between Marc's legs.

Marc fists his hands into his blankets, scrabbling for purchase as the artist continues to methodically kiss and bite at the tender skin on Marc's legs, fawning over sensitive spots and making him jerk and shudder with every ministration.

"N-Nath," he wheezes, tears gathering on the corners of his eyes as Nathaniel props his hips up, swiping his tongue across his hole in a quick, smooth movement, then a second time, then a third.

When Nathaniel starts a steady pace of fucking him with his tongue, Marc nearly sobs. His stomach clenches with every movement the red-head makes, but he tries his best to stay still like Nathaniel had told him to.

Just when Marc feels like he can't take anymore, Nathaniel suddenly pulls away, looking triumphant and pleased with himself. Marc can only imagine what a wreck he looks like by comparison.

"I want you in me," Nathaniel whispers, grinning impishly as he moves to straddle Marc's lap. "How does that sound?"

Marc groans, too overwhelmed to form coherent thoughts, much less words. All he knows is that he wants Nathaniel to hurry up and fuck him.

"Well?" The artist teases. "What do you think of me taking your nice, hot cock in my ass?"

" _Yes,_ " Marc gasps, hands flying to clutch at the redhead's thighs, fingernails digging into the soft flesh. "Please, Nath, I-I'm gonna-"

"Just hang on for a little while longer," Nath says, as he starts to lower himself down onto Marc's cock. "Don't come for me just yet, love."

" _N-Nathaniel-_ "

Marc's eyes fly open with a gasp.

The sun is just starting to shine through his bedroom window.

He feels like he's drenched in sweat, staring up at the ceiling in mortification as thoughts start rushing through his head at rapid pace.

He just had a wet dream about his friend. And sure enough, he's got a boner at half-mast to prove it.

Marc throws an arm over his face and groans.

He should be feeling guilty, or revolted, but he feels...disappointed?

Disappointed that he woke up before the dream was over?

Oh no.

_Oh no._

Nathaniel was just a friend.

He wasn't modeling for him because...because he wanted to have _sex_ with Nathaniel, he just liked the redhead's art.

Yes, that was all. He just liked his art.

Unless it wasn't the art that had captivated him.

Marc freezes, the cogs and wheels in his mind spinning so frantically he could almost hear them turning.

What if it wasn't the _art_ that he liked, but the _artist_?

Ohhhhhh no.

Something clicks in Marc's mind, a confirmation of his theory.

He likes Nathaniel.

Marc turns and buries his face in his pillow, face burning.

I mean, he's not the worst person to be attracted to. Their nude modeling sessions might become a bit more awkward, though.

But Nathaniel is shy, always stammering and blushing when Marc chooses a sexier pose. If Nathaniel knew what kind of feelings Marc was harboring for the artist, he might be scared away.

But that's a problem for awake Marc to solve.

Well, he's still got some time before he has to be up. Maybe if he drifts off now, that dream might come back and finish what it started.

* * *

"So, I've been thinking," Marc says during one of their private modeling sessions.

"I've heard that's a dangerous pastime," Nathaniel mutters, barely glancing up from his sketchbook. He's trying to capture the angle of Marc's legs just right, but something just doesn't look right about it.

"Shut up," Marc snorts. "Anyway, I..." he fidgets in his seat, despite trying to stay still for the pose. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Nathaniel stops drawing. "A favor?" He askes mildly, trying to ignore the way his heart leaps in his throat and his shoulders tense.

A favor asked by Marc.

This could either be very good or very bad.

"Well, I..." Marc takes a deep breath. "How good are you at photography?"

"Not too bad," Nathaniel answers honestly. "I'm taking a photography class this semester, too."

"Okay, so," Marc says, "I have a...social media site. Where I...do certain poses...for money."

Nathaniel's blood runs cold. He has a feeling that he knows _exactly_ what Marc's talking about.

The light flush on Marc's face all but confirms his suspicions. "I've been working alone for a while now, using my tripod, but it'd really help me if I had someone to get better angles, preferably an artist?" Marc raises his eyebrows at Nathaniel innocently.

Innocence is the furthest thing from Nath's mind at the moment.

Marc wants him to help take photos for his Onlyfans account.

_Jesus fucking christ._

He can't say no. He cannot turn Marc down, not after Marc's gone through all the trouble of taking time out of his schedule to model for Nath during his free hours.

So Nathaniel swallows and nods. "I-I'd be happy to help!"

Marc beams. "Thank you! You're the best!"

Nathaniel can't help but smile back at Marc's enthusiasm.

When the session ends, the model practically twirls around the room, darting in to press a kiss to Nathaniel's cheek. "You really are a lifesaver," he continues as Nathaniel stammers and turns beet red. "How does meeting up at my place after our Saturday session sound? I'll treat you to dinner afterwards."

Hanging out with a sexy man all day _and_ free food? How can he say no?

Nathaniel agrees, then Marc is gone, and the place where the model kissed his cheek feels like it's burning but in a good way.

Guess he's going to be visiting...Marc's place...and having dinner with him...and helping him photograph his tasteful nudes...

Nathaniel brings his notebook to his face and screams into the sketch of Marc's junk.

This entire semester has been a test of his self-control. Nath is beginning to suspect some higher power is pulling the strings, dangling an angel in front of his face and teasing him, daring him to take what's too good to be his.

He won't risk Marc's friendship. Nath has seen how some of the other art students look at the model. He knows that Marc isn't short on admirers, and it's very likely that the raven-haired man sticks with him because he doesn't want that kind of attention.

He's determined to keep his hands and his thoughts to himself when the model's around. For Marc's sake.

If Marc wants him, he'll have to make the first move.

* * *

Marc's heart is pounding by the time Saturday comes around.

Time for a new plan: seduce Nathaniel into falling for him. But in a respectful way.

The hardest part was already over: asking Nathaniel to come visit his apartment. The model could still hardly believe it had worked. When the artist had agreed, he'd been tempted to grab Nath's face and make out with him then and there but had switched to a peck on the cheek at the last second.

Now comes the next part of his plan: being intentionally and exceptionally sexy.

He can do that.

The nude modeling session in Nath's room goes well. Marc keeps trying to sneak glances at his crush during the session, but Nathaniel is lost in his art. There's an intense focus in his eyes that brings shivers down Marc's spine, especially when those eyes flit upward for a fraction of a second to take in his figure.

It's a shame Nathaniel's so shy. If he gave Marc eyes like that intentionally...

Nathaniel makes eye contact with him, then breaks it instantly as a flush creeps up his cheeks.

It's adorable.

Marc wants to rail him.

Once they're done Marc leads Nathaniel towards the bus stop. He makes sure to walk in front of the artist, striding confidently down the sidewalk in his best pair of heels and booty shorts.

"The weather's lovely today," he says, arching his back as he stretches. "It's so sunny."

"Mhm," Nath murmurs.

"Nice view, don't you think?" Marc peeks over his shoulder. Nathaniel is very pointedly _not_ staring at his ass, eyes fixed on the grass next to the sidewalk.

"Y-yeah," the artist responds, tucking his hands into his jeans. "It's nice."

The bus is mostly empty when it arrives, but that doesn't stop Marc from taking the seat right next to Nathaniel. And if the bus happens to make a sharp turn and he accidentally leans into the artist too much, well, that's just how life goes sometimes.

* * *

Nathaniel's palms are sweating by the time they finally arrive at Marc's apartment.

Why does Marc look so good in shorts? The denim hugs his butt almost too well, practically riding up his ass with every step.

Not only that, but his legs look incredible, tanned and smooth, muscles rippling as he walks down the sidewalk in a pair of black heels.

Oh God, he's _irresistible_.

"Come in," Marc beckons, opening a door and ushering Nathaniel inside.

"Wow," Nathaniel says, glancing around as his eyes adjust to the light. "It's really nice."

Marc seems to have a knack for décor. Even though the living room is small, it doesn't feel cramped or messy. Most of the room is monochrome, but there are a few decorative paintings and potted plants that give a touch of vibrancy to the apartment.

"Thanks," Marc says, taking off his heels as he steps onto the carpeted floor. "I'm not great at house tours, so if you want, we can get started on the photos right away."

"Okay."

He follows Marc into another room, this one piled high with boxes. There's an area of the room sectioned off with a white curtain, and a camera with a tripod, along with some other equipment.

This is the room where Rev comes to life. Nathaniel feels a thrill in his chest, taking in the room as Marc digs through one of the boxes before pulling out a sheer red fabric.

"So," Nathaniel begins hesitantly. "What kind of modeling do you do?"

"Hm? Oh, I post photos on Onlyfans," Marc replies bluntly.

Nathaniel chokes on his own spit.

He hadn't expected Marc to answer so immediately, and so honestly, too.

"Hey," Marc says, turning to look at Nathaniel with a raised eyebrow. "It pays for my food and housing, so."

"That's fair," Nath says, rubbing his throat. Marc continues looking through the boxes, hips swaying as he sorts through piles of clothes and accessories.

"Alright," Marc says. "So I have an idea of what I want to do for this next piece. I generally try to go for teasing photos, y'know, tasteful nudes."

Nathaniel nods. He knows this already but needs to look like he doesn't.

"So," Marc says, twirling around the room with the chiffon sheet of red fabric, making it flutter in the air, "I was thinking of tying this around my waist like a skirt, and then sitting on the ground with the camera positioned above me so I'm looking up at it." Marc makes vague hand motions as he speaks, instructing Nathaniel on where to stand. "You might need a stool for this, there's one in the corner that you can stand on."

Nathaniel nods, trying to visualize how the completed piece will look while Marc goes into the bathroom to get changed. He flits through the settings on the camera, checking the lighting, trying to keep himself calm.

He can do this. He can keep calm and take pictures. It'll be fine.

And then Marc walks back in.

Nathaniel would think by now he'd be used to seeing Marc naked.

But nude modeling is one thing.

This, _this_ , is something different.

Marc's wearing the chiffon red swatch, tied around his waist so it drapes down one leg. His lips shine with a fresh coat of bright red lipstick. Other than that, he's completely nude.

The raven-haired man sits down on the white sheet, crossing one leg over the other and looking up at Nathaniel with a crooked grin. "Well?" He asks, lifting his chin so the camera can catch the angle of his smooth, tanned neck. "How do I look?"

_Like an angel,_ Nath thinks. _The most demonic angel I've ever met._

Nathaniel's legs are shaking. He tries to keep his balance, standing on the simple wooden stool, looking down at Marc. "Y-you should move your knee a little to the left," he stutters. "You're not completely covered from this angle."

Marc complies, still staring up at him through half-lidded emerald eyes.

Fuck, he's getting hard.

_Fuck,_ he's hard and Marc can probably see that.

Trying to keep his hands steady, Nath takes a few shots and begins the methodical process of trying different angles and poses. Marc follows his instructions with ease, twisting his hips this way and that to make the light catch on his stomach, on how the smooth lines of his abdomen dip under the curtain of his red skirt.

"I think we're good," Nathaniel says, knowing that he should probably take more shots but he's obviously horny and getting more nervous the longer Marc looks at him.

The model sits up to take the camera from Nath and scroll through the various poses. Nathaniel sits down on the stool, knees locked together and hands in his lap.

"Oh, nice," Marc praises, his face lighting up. "These will do wonderfully. Thank you." He grins up at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel tries to smile back, but Marc glances down to his lap and Nathaniel panics.

"Sorry," he splutters, trying to hide the glaringly obvious problem in his pants.

Marc doesn't look upset at all. Instead, he smiles reassuringly. "You don't need to apologize," he says. "If I'm being honest, it's actually a little flattering. It means I'm doing my job right."

"Y-yeah?"

Marc nods.

"Well," Nathaniel breathes. "That's...good to know."

"It is." Marc gets to his feet. "Now then, I promised dinner after this, and I'm going to keep my word. Don't worry, I made sure they were Kosher certified."

* * *

Contrary to what he had assumed before, asking Nathaniel to come over was not the hardest part of his plan.

The boy refuses to be seduced.

Marc had changed into his booty shorts and a low-cut tank top and was currently in the process of cleaning up the remnants of dinner.

"Let me help," Nathaniel insists for the third time.

"You really don't have to," Marc says again, but the artist is already in the process of helping him dry the dishes and putting them away. "There weren't a lot."

"You made dinner," Nathaniel says, propping one hand on his hip. "It's only fair that I help in some way."

Marc giggles. Their conversation feels strangely domestic, like the playful bickering of a couple. "Well, thanks," he says, smiling honestly. "You're very sweet."

Nathaniel rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "You've been doing a lot for me, too," he says. "It wouldn't feel right if I couldn't repay you somehow."

God, he's such a gentleman. Marc's always been a hopeless romantic at heart.

Sure, fucking someone in the heat of the moment has its perks, but nothing can really beat what making love does to the body and soul.

It's not fair that such a perfect boy had to be so innocent and oblivious at the most inconvenient of times.

Well, Marc was determined to wait.

If Nath really wanted him, then he'd say something. Nothing good would come of Marc trying to force his artist friend to have feelings for him.

That didn't mean he couldn't tilt the scales in his favor, though.

When it's time for Nathaniel to leave, Marc gives him a hug goodbye.

"See you Monday," he says, pulling away from Nathaniel's embrace after a moment of hesitation.

"Can't wait," Nathaniel responds, flashing a grin.

* * *

Monday's nude modeling session goes smoothly. Pleased with his work, Nathaniel starts packing up while Marc re-adorns his robe, already heading in Nathaniel's direction.

One of the other art students steps in front of the model's path.

Nath scowls. He'd recognize that platinum blond hair and stuck up attitude anywhere.

Louis de Grammont, a self-entitled asshole who thinks he's the hottest thing since the sun came around.

"Marc, was it?" He drawls, placing one hand on the easel next to him. "I heard you've been helping Nathaniel with nude modeling sessions."

Nathaniel curses under his breath. True, it wasn't like they'd been keeping it a secret-they'd made plans after class before-but thinking about de Grammont snooping on them made his skin crawl.

Marc hugs the robe to his chest. "I...um..."

"Kurtzberg's falling behind in class?" The blonde hums thoughtfully. "Wouldn't have been the first time. But since you're offering, I'm also hoping to hone my skills to perfection. How does Tuesday evening work for you?"

Marc steps back, his green eyes wide and alarmed. "Oh...u-um..."

Nathaniel's seen the confidence that Marc has when he's in a comfortable situation, and the striking difference to how he is now is as clear as night and day.

"Y-you see," Marc explains, "I-It's, my schedule. There's just so many of it."

Nathaniel stands up and pushes past Louis to stand next to Marc. "Fuck off, de Grammont," he says, crossing his arms. "Marc's busy enough as it is."

The look of sheer relief Marc sends his way is worth the scolding Mr. Carracci is probably going to give him later for using inappropriate language in class.

Louis scowls. "You don't speak for him, Kurtzberg."

"H-he's right," Marc cuts in. "I don't have time for more sessions, sorry."

The blond glances between the two of them with an accusing stare. "What are you, his boyfriend or something?"

Heat rises to Nathaniel's face. "That's none of your-"

"Yes!" Marc grabs Nathaniel's arm. "Yes, he's m-my boyfriend. Which is why I'm...helping him."

The room goes deadly quiet.

Louis looks shocked by this, which is exactly how Nathaniel feels.

The redhead's heart stops as he looks around the room and realizes everyone is staring at them. Even Mr. Carracci is frozen at his desk, eyebrows raised practically to his hairline.

Crap.

Marc's grip on Nathaniel's arm is painfully tight, but the other doesn't say anything.

"Right," Louis says, clearing his throat, looking obviously uncomfortable. "Well then." He turns on his heel and quickly leaves the room.

Marc lets out a long breath. "I'm sorry," he blurts out, turning to Nathaniel and grabbing both his hands. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine!" Nath squawks. It feels like every other interaction with Marc leaves him a blushing mess, and today is no exception.

Marc's eyes are wide. "So...you're not mad at me?" He asks cautiously.

"You did what you had to," Nathaniel assures. "I just...uh...wasn't expecting you to..."

His phone pings, and the artist goes to check it. "I have to get to another class," he says, grabbing his bag. "I'll see you this afternoon."

* * *

Louis doesn't look him in the eye for a full week afterwards.

Marc considers that a win in his book.

The loss, of course, being that everyone in the class now thinks he and Nath are dating.

Which wouldn't be a loss except that every time he talks to Nathaniel after class, there's a group of nosy art students pretending they aren't listening in on every word he says, whispering to each other and giving quick side glances.

And that does wonders for Marc's self-confidence, from a sarcastic standpoint. He absolutely hates how they try to pry into his private life.

"Nathaniel's lucky to have you," Mr. Carracci tells him one day after everyone's left the room. "You make him happy."

Marc sputters, fumbling for an excuse, but the old man simply smiles politely and the conversation ends as quickly as it had started.

* * *

Eventually, Marc ends up coming over to Nathaniel's dorm room just because he can.

It's closer to his home, and not as crowded as the library, making it an ideal place to study.

Nathaniel doesn't mind, and that room becomes like a second home to him.

Nathaniel even cleans off the second bed, just in case Marc pulls an all-nighter while he's there.

In an attempt of thanks, Marc gives Nathaniel a key to his apartment.

"I know there's not a lot of reasons for you to drop by," he says, "but I felt like I should offer, anyways."

To his surprise, Nathaniel ends up visiting practically every other weekend, while Marc finds most of his afternoon's lounging on the spare bed in Nath's room with his laptop.

It was comforting, just being with the other. Sometimes they'd play video games together, or watch movies, curled up on Marc's couch with an array of snacks.

Marc was continually grateful that his couch was very small. More often than not, the redhead would end up dozing off during a long movie, resting his head on Marc's shoulder. Marc was never really able to focus on the movies when that happened, his heart almost full to bursting as he listened to Nathaniel's soft snoring.

"I feel like I should tell you this," Marc says one day as they're sitting on his couch, Nathaniel working on schoolwork while Marc writes in his journal. "I..." he licks his lips nervously. "I knew who you were before the art class."

Nathaniel pauses as the words sink in. He looks up questioningly to Marc, who plays with the pencil between his fingers.

"Before we met I, well...I used to follow your Instagram account," Marc admits. "The Mighty_Illustrator one."

"You did?" Nathaniel's eyes are wide.

Marc hunches his shoulders. "I thought your art was really cool," he says. "I'm sorry if that seems weird."

To his surprise, Nathaniel bursts out laughing.

"You knew me?" A grin spreads across the artist's face. "Really?"

Marc hunches his shoulders, burying his face into his shirt. "Yeah," he mutters.

"Guess I should come clean, too," Nathaniel says, pushing his homework away. "I also knew you before the art class."

"No," Marc gasps disbelievingly.

"Yep."

"You're joking."

"I followed your OnlyFans," Nath says, eyes wide, an almost wild gleam in his eyes.

Marc's jaw drops. "You what?"

Nath laughs a little. "You were great drawing inspiration, even before I met you. Compared to me, I don't think you're weird at all."

"W-well," Marc says. "I used your art as writing inspiration. So I guess we're equal."

Nathaniel leans forward, eyes bright with interest. "Hey," he whispers in a conspirital tone. "If I show you the art I made will you show me your writings?"

His art. Marc lets out a slow, shaky breath. He'd almost forgotten that this was the reason he wanted to get to know Nath better in the first place. "Yeah."

Marc grabs a few journals from his room and follows Nathaniel back to the dorms where he keeps his sketchbooks. Nathaniel tries to bribe Marc into letting him read some of the passages on the bus, but Marc doesn't waver, even when Nathaniel gives him wide, pleading eyes that make his stomach flutter like he's got butterflies in his gut.

The rest of the afternoon is spent exchanging art and stories. Marc pores over every detail, carefully running his fingers down old pages.

If Nathaniel used to follow his OnlyFans, that probably meant he at least saw the writer as attractive.

Marc was pretty sure of that already. Quite a few of his photography sessions for the site with Nathaniel had affected the writer very...visibly.

As embarrassed as Nathaniel would get, it gave Marc a sense of pride knowing that Nathaniel was just as attracted to him as he was to the artist.

Even if nothing romantic ever blossomed from their relationship, Marc was happy knowing that he meant something to Nathaniel in some way.

Even now, knowing each other's secrets, it felt like they were bordering on a decisive edge, teetering closer to something new for the two of them.

"Your stories are beautiful," Nathaniel whispers in an awed voice. "I'd love to read more."

Marc's heart thrums in his chest. "As long as you show me more of your art," he responds.

Even if he could be happy knowing Nathaniel was close to him, Marc still desperately wants them to be closer.

Even if Nathaniel does find him attractive, does he like him?

Does the redhead ever find his thoughts wandering the way Marc does?

Does he have dirty thoughts about him?

A thrill runs through Marc's body at the thought of Nathaniel fantasizing about him.

Well, if Nathaniel used to follow his OnlyFans, he might not be as shy as Marc first thought. Who knows what kind of secrets were still hidden beneath those blue eyes?

_I wonder how he thinks of me,_ Marc muses.

* * *

"Do you have any white paint?" Nathaniel asks, sorting through a pile of paint cans.

"Near the back," Marc says, practicing with striking a pose on the white sheet in his photography room. He'd asked Nath about experimenting with body paint for his photos.

Marc had been coming up with a lot of interesting ideas for his photos lately. Knowing that Nathaniel followed him on his ReverseRainbow account seemed to have boosted his confidence further.

This was a good thing for his photos, but, Nath had to admit, his heart could only beat like a jackrabbit for so long. Marc might actually kill him with the power of good looks alone.

"Do you want some kind of design or more of a splatter-paint style?" Nathaniel asks over his shoulder.

"Probably some kind of design," Marc says. "Splatter paint might give off a kind of...dirty insinuation. Let's save that for a future photo."

Whoops. Here comes the jackrabbit heart again.

Nathaniel laughs to hide how shaky his breath is. "Alright," he says, dipping his paintbrush in white paint. "I've never really done body paint before, so..."

"I trust you," Marc responds instantly. His eyes are focused on the redhead.

Nath swallows. "Right," he croaks, walking towards where Marc is sitting on the ground. "Well-"

And then the unthinkable happens.

Nathaniel's foot gets caught in the white sheet and he trips forward with a yell, the paintbrush flying out of his hands as he stumbles and falls directly on top of Marc.

Nathaniel's knees hit the ground first. Granted, he's falling on a carpet with a white sheet over it, but it's still painful.

A pair of hands grab his hips before he crashes fully onto the other, slowing him down just enough for him to slam his hands on the ground and catch himself.

Nathaniel blinks as his world comes back into focus.

Oh shit.

Oooooooh shit.

He's straddling a completely nude Marc, hands planted on either side of the model's head. Marc's hands are digging into his thighs, rooting him there.

Nathaniel's brain short-circuits.

He should scramble away and apologize, but it feels like he's been turned to stone, blood pounding in his ears as he stares down at the emerald depths of Marc's eyes.

Marc doesn't say anything. His eyes are locked with Nath, grip tight on the artist's legs.

"Nath," Marc whispers, his voice husky and low.

He's hard, Nathaniel realizes. He can feel the model's erection against his inner thigh. The revelation makes his own member twitch in anticipation.

Nathaniel decides to take a chance.

Slowly, purposefully, he rolls his hips forward.

Marc whines like an animal in heat, head thrown back as his nails dig into Nathaniel's legs. His hips buck up against Nathaniel's, trying to create some friction between the two of them.

Nath sucks in a breath as the model's hands migrate further up his legs, hooking into the waistband of his pants.

" _Fuck,_ " the artist rasps. "Fuck, Marc-"

Marc's hands fly up to grab his shirt, pulling him down as their lips connect in a frenzied mess.

The raven-haired man kisses him like a wildfire, biting and licking and panting as he thrusts up against Nathaniel, tangling his tongue into the other's mouth.

"Nath," Marc groans between sloppy kisses. "Nath, _Nath-_ "

Fuck, that's so hot.

Nathaniel grabs Marc's wrists and pins them down. The model whines as Nathaniel pulls away, eyes wild, pupils full-blown.

"Marc," Nathaniel says, slowly and evenly, though his heart is beating faster than he's ever felt before. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Marc's breath hitches.

He looks so gorgeous, pinned underneath him like this. Nathaniel watches as the model's chest rises and falls, as Marc tries to regain his composure. When Marc locks eyes with him again, there's a determined gleam in his eyes as he answers.

"I-I think I might go insane if you don't."

The desperation in his voice, panting for breath, cheeks pink and flushed-Nathaniel nearly loses his composure then and there, but he's determined to give Marc the railing of a lifetime.

"Can't have you going insane, now," Nathaniel purrs, leaning in to whisper against Marc's ear. "Wanna see your pretty little face when you take my cock."

Marc groans, back arching as Nathaniel nips at Marc's lobe, pressing kisses down the other's face.

Nathaniel's teeth lightly scrape down Marc's neck, causing the other to shiver.

"I thought-I thought you were shy," Marc wheezes as the redhead nips and sucks on the soft, tender skin.

Nath smiles into Marc's collarbone. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Y-you kept turning red," Marc gasps. "When we-when we first met, a-and sometime during our sessions, and whenever I tried to seduce you-but you never did- _ah!_ "

Nathaniel finds the sweet spot on Marc's neck, stroking it with his tongue as the model keens beneath him. "So you _were_ doing it intentionally," he hums. "I've wanted you for a long time, Marc. You don't know how long I've wanted to do this."

Marc gives a breathy laugh. "And here I thought you w-were some kind of...innocent tomato virgin boy."

Nathaniel chuckles at that, pressing his hips into Marc's and grinding against him with slow, steady movements.

"I-I see now that was a mistake," Marc's voice becomes high and strangled. He tries to wriggle out of Nath's grip, but the artist has an iron clasp on his wrists. " _Fuck_ , you're-you're a lot bolder than I expected."

"Is that bad?"

"It's hot," Marc admits, biting his lower lip and squeezing his eyes shut. "Nath, Nath, please-"

Nathaniel digs his hips against Marc's bare cock, and the model's begging dissolves into frantic moans.

He can already feel his orgasm swelling, pre-cum slicking the inside of his boxers as he quickens his pace.

"W-wait," Marc stutters, legs scrabbling, nearly knocking the artist off balance. Nathaniel slows, then pulls away, confused and a little restless. "Not here."

"...not here?"

Marc nods, panting for breath. "My room. It's...gotta keep this place clean."

Nathaniel pauses, the heat of the moment beginning to subside a little as he releases Marc's wrists and gets to his feet. It's only now that he gets a good look at Marc.

Marc has always looked sexy to Nathaniel. It's an undeniable fact about him, slim figure, tanned skin, plump lips and all.

Now, with sweat and wet kisses sheening on his skin, face flushed and feathery locks messy and tangled as he stares at him with an overwhelming hunger in his eyes, he looks like sex personified.

Nathaniel offers Marc a hand and pulls him to his feet, his other hand wrapping around the model's waist.

"Needy, are we?" Marc seems to have gained some composure now, and his grin widens as Nathaniel's hands slip lower to knead at his ass.

"Mm," Nath mumbles, pressing his lips against Marc's neck.

"I know," Marc whispers, tilting up Nath's chin so the artist can see his half-lidded eyes. "But I'd rather not leave my body paint out to dry. We'll do the photoshoot later."

Nathaniel sighs, stepping away, and the two settle into the process of cleaning up.

* * *

Nathaniel used to think it was difficult to keep himself off of Marc.

This, however, is a whole new level of self-control.

The worst part is that Marc knows he would like nothing more than to pin the model against the wall and kiss him into oblivion, and seems to enjoy teasing him.

Nathaniel's eyes are fixed on Marc's behind as the raven-haired man saunters across the room to the paintbrush Nathaniel had dropped, hips swaying. He leans down to pick it up, and Nathaniel gulps as he's presented with a very obvious view of Marc's ass.

Marc glances back at him, grinning like a vixen. "Nice view, I know," he says, wiggling his hips teasingly.

Nathaniel's face is practically the color of his hair, the paint cans completely forgotten behind him.

"Ah, there's that blushing tomato face," Marc croons, a crooked smile on his lips. "Good to know I can still make you flustered."

Something competitive sparks in Nathaniel's chest.

"Bold words for someone who falls apart the moment someone pins them down," Nathaniel shoots back, stepping forward.

Marc straightens, wagging the paintbrush in front of his face. An excited gleam shines in his eyes as he dances out of Nath's reach. "Patience," he chirps, placing the paintbrush in a cup of water.

Nathaniel follows Marc around the room as he busies himself with tidying the rest of the area, resealing all the paint cans and organizing them back into their shelves.

"You don't have to color-coordinate them," Nathaniel says, a hint of a whine in the back of his throat.

Marc giggles, spinning around to grab Nathaniel's hands. "Maybe not," he says, fingers trailing up to his shoulders, hooking around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. "But it's fun seeing you so horny."

Nathaniel opens his mouth to respond, but Marc darts back in, kissing him breathless, teeth scraping against his bottom lip, hot and wet and heady.

"Seems like I'm not the only one who's impatient," Nathaniel gasps as Marc grabs his arms, dragging him down the hallways and into his bedroom.

The model's eyes are a piercing, shining green. "It was supposed to be revenge for pinning my wrists down when I wanted to get my hands all over you," he says. "But you're just too irresistible."

"Am I?" Nath smirks as Marc's hands toy with the folds of his shirt.

"You know," the model says, tilting his head, "it's really not fair that you've seen me naked hundreds of times and I've never seen you even once." He looks up at Nath and lightly slaps his chest. "Take it off."

Nathaniel needs no further prompting to get undressed. As he lifts his shirt over his head, the artist can feel Marc's hands already unbuttoning his pants, working them down to his thighs.

The artist's clothes are tossed unceremoniously onto the floor. He kicks off his pants and his boxers, looking up to find Marc's eyes on him like a hawk.

"Fuck," Marc breathes, taking in all of Nathaniel's body with his gaze. "You look hot."

Nathaniel's always been a little self-conscious about his body, but now, with Marc's eyes roving over him like the hottest thing he's ever seen, he can't help but feel a little proud.

"If just seeing you is doing this to me," Marc whispers, running his hands down Nath's chest. "I don't know how I'm going to survive getting railed by you."

This elicits a chuckle from Nathaniel. "Would you rather top, then?"

Marc hums, a coy smile on his face. "Maybe another time," he says. "Right now I want to feel your cock in me."

The mention of "maybe another time" makes Nathaniel's heart leap. With a burst of energy, he grabs Marc around the waist, lifting him up. Marc shrieks in surprise, wrapping his legs around Nathaniel's hips as the artist carries him over to the bed and sits him down on the edge.

The model looks down at Nath, amusement clear in his eyes. "I always suspected you could sweep me off my feet," he jokes.

"I'll do more than that," the redhead promises, placing his hands on the insides of Marc's thighs.

"Then fuck me so hard I can't walk anymore," Marc breathes, as Nathaniel begins peppering kisses across his long, smooth legs.

Nathaniel's already considered it-fucking Marc fast and hard-but there's something so tantalizing in dragging things out, marking every inch of the model's skin with his teeth and discovering everything that makes him tick.

Marc mewls as Nathaniel's lips start moving further up his legs, his voice rising to a whine as the artist leaves a trail of kisses and pinches in his wake. His hands reach up to thread through Nathaniel's red locks, stroking, clenching when Nathaniel hits a tender spot. Nathaniel groans into Marc's skin, his cock twitching.

"N-Nath," Marc chokes, wrapping his legs around him like a vice. Nathaniel hums in response, turning his attention to the model's smooth stomach, sucking and nipping at the skin, mottling that beautiful canvas with little bruises.

Marc's legs flex as he lifts his hips up, trying to connect with something, anything to give him friction against his cock. Nathaniel slides a hand down to the model's groin, stroking the member until it's hard and weighty in his palm.

The artist moves lower, lower, until Marc's cock is in front of his face. He glances up at the model to see the raven-haired man staring down at him, eyes wide and wild, excited and nervous and very, very obviously turned on.

Slowly, he swipes his tongue across the tip, and the sound that Marc makes is so guttural and _hot_ it sucks the breath from his lungs. The model's hands fist into his hair, eliciting a moan from the redhead as he mouths the tip of Marc's cock.

Any words that might have been spoken die on the model's lips as Nath inches further down the shaft until his nose is practically buried in the other's pubic hair, taking him in one smooth motion.

Marc lets out a stuttering wheeze.

Nathaniel starts to move, making bold, quick strokes down the other's shaft with his tongue. Marc throws his head back, moaning like a wild animal in heat.

He can feel Marc's cock pulsing in his mouth, the taste of pre-cum in the back of his throat-

Before Marc can cum, Nathaniel slides off of his cock, glancing up at the deeply flushed model with a grin.

Marc looks like he might lose it, biting his lip, eyes shut tightly and back arched so intensely no drawing could do him justice.

"Fuck," Marc gasps, fingers losing their vice-like grip to gently thread through his scalp. "Nath, babe-"

Whatever Marc was going to say next is lost as the model realizes what he just said. He squeaks, a hand flying up to cover his mouth as he glances at Nath with a mortified stare.

It's an unexpectedly cute gesture from someone who was moaning like a porn star just a few seconds ago.

"Babe?" Nathaniel muses, a cheeky smile on his face.

"Sorry," Marc whispers, but Nathaniel pulls the writer down to leave a hot, wet kiss on the man's lips.

"I think I could get used to being called that," Nath says, once they've pulled apart. "Especially when it's spoken by your pretty lips."

Marc blinks, still a little dazed from Nathaniel's ministrations. "My...lips?"

"Mhm," the artist agrees, darting in to press a peck to that sweet mouth as he lifts himself onto the bed, straddling Marc's lap. "Absolutely breathtaking." He takes Marc's chin in his hand, gently tilting the model's head up. "And if we're really planning on making this a recurring event, just know that I have several desires involving those pretty pink lips of yours."

Marc's eyes are wide, and his breath hitches. "L-let's just focus on right now, o-okay?" He lips his licks nervously, and Nathaniel focuses in on the movement with a grin.

"God, you look so good," he purrs, running his fingers through the model's hair as he appreciates the view. "Just wanna devour you whole."

He trails a hand down Marc's neck, feeling the rapid pulse of the other's heartbeat beneath his fingertips. Marc leans into his touch, then Nathaniel moves forward and Marc is falling backwards against the bed.

Once again, Nathaniel finds himself looking down at the beautiful model beneath him, blood racing and heart pounding, but this time there's more certainty between them, an affirmation that they both want this.

"Don't grab my wrists this time," Marc says, placing his hands on Nathaniel's hips. "As hot as that was..." his fingers move to knead at Nathaniel's ass, trailing off as he digs his fingers into the soft mounds of flesh.

Nathaniel laughs, diving in for a kiss as he rolls his hips against Marc's spit-slicked cock. The model bucks up to meet him, groans muffled and captured by Nathaniel's lips.

Hell, just grinding against him is almost enough to make Nathaniel cum. Maybe it's the way his smaller hips fit so perfectly into Nath's wider ones, like they were meant to be there, or the way Marc's nails dig into his back with every thrust, or his tongue, hot and filthy as he tastes Nath's mouth.

Marc feels wonderful.

But Nathaniel has a promise to keep.

Marc realizes this too as the artist breaks his kisses for a moment, allowing Marc to move towards the bedside drawer and pull out a bottle of lube.

"Took you long enough," the model groans, rubbing his thighs together while Nath takes the lube and squirts some on his hand, warming it up between his fingers before coating his dick generously. "Dammit, Nath, I need you to fuck me so bad."

Nathaniel's so hard it hurts, the pleading in Marc's voice mirroring his own restlessness.

"If you say so," he answers, grinning like a minx. Positioning himself between Marc's legs, he slides a finger between the other's cheeks, circling his hole with light movements.

"You're....teasing," Marc growls, quickly replaced with a gasp as Nathaniel presses his finger in and starts the process of opening him up.

Marc's toes curl into the sheets, rocking his hips against Nath's finger, trying to force the digit deeper in. One hand reaches to palm at his dick, but Nathaniel grabs the wrist with his free hand.

"Just a little longer," Nathaniel consoles, slotting in a second finger.

" _Nath-_ " Marc keens, back arching. "Nath, you're- _ah_ -you're killing me."

Nathaniel curls his fingers in response, earning a loud moan from the other. He pumps his fingers into Marc's hole, releasing his hold on the model's wrist with his other hand so he can let his hands roam across Marc's chest.

Marc's stomach bobs as his muscles contract under Nath's fingers, and Nathaniel skims his free hand across the moving skin with amusement before migrating up to the model's chest, rubbing a thumb across one of Marc's perky nipples.

"Jesus," Marc whispers hoarsely, and then dissolves into a mess of animalistic noises as Nath takes advantage of Marc's distracted state to push in a third finger.

"You're doing great," Nathaniel encourages, pinching at Marc's nipple with a grin. "Look at you, so hot and ready for my cock."

" _ha-_ yes," Marc whines, sweat sheening on his flushed skin. "Yes, Nath, _please, fuck, I've been ready since last week_."

Well, how can he say no to that?

* * *

Nathaniel retracts his fingers, watching as Marc's entire body shivers as he exits.

"You ready?" He steadies Marc's hips with one hand, positioning himself. His cock is lined up against Marc's hole, and he can feel the skin puckering against his tip, waiting to be filled.

Marc's hands grip the sheets next to his head. He swallows and nods, apparently not trusting himself to speak.

Nathaniel slowly moves forward, sliding his cock into Marc's entrance.

Marc lets out a loud cry, body tensing as Nath fills him in one smooth movement. " _Fuck,_ " he chokes, biting his pink lips to muffle another loud moan as the redhead starts moving again, slowly fucking him in deep, even strokes.

Nathaniel groans with pure bliss as he slides into Marc's tight, hot hole, keeping the other pinned down by the hips while the model gasps and whines.

"Nath," he pants, trying to grab onto the redhead for purchase, fingers digging into his back. "F-fuck me, babe. Nath, _fUCK_ -"

Nathaniel rams his hips forward, cutting off Marc's rambling and thrusting into him, harder and deeper, pulling out almost to the tip before slamming back into the other's prostate.

The model looks like a wreck beneath him, covered in sweat and kiss-marked bruises and making sounds so unbelievably hot and dirty, desperately clawing and gasping for breath.

"Marc," he pants, leaning forward to muffle his cries in a kiss, before pulling back and thrusting into him again. "Marc, you're-you're so good, Marc, so fucking perfect."

Marc's nails dig mercilessly into his back, his cock bobbing against the artist's stomach every time he sinks into Marc, smearing pre-cum across their stomachs, hot and messy and better than anything Nathaniel had ever fantasized.

"H-harder," Marc demands, eyes wild, the green practically lost in the contraction of his pupils. He bucks forward, biting at Nath's lips and ears and shoulders and anywhere he can reach.

The steady rhythm begins to lose control as Nathaniel grabs Marc by the hips and pistons his cock into him, rough and hard, biting his lip hard enough to taste blood as he groans, fighting to keep down his orgasm for just a moment more.

Taking Marc's cock in his hand, he begins to frantically stroke the member in quick movements, rapidly losing coherency as he feels the pressure building.

" _Faster, faster-ah-Nath, Nath-_ " Marc babbles. " _Nath, so close, fuck-NaTH, FUCK, NATH, NATH, AH!"_

Marc throws his head back and screams. His asshole clenches around the artist's cock as he comes, spilling across both their stomachs, and Nath sees stars as he thrusts deep into Marc, his orgasm filling and overflowing into the other's hole.

" _Marc, fuck, FUCK-!_ "

He keeps going as he comes, painting the inside of Marc's hole with his seed, grabbing his hips and fucking him through the bliss until the heat of the moment slowly trickles away and he sinks down, limbs shaking, barely managing to keep himself supported above a trembling Marc.

"You did so good," Nathaniel whispers, as Marc lets out a choked sob. "You were so great, I'm so proud of you."

"Nath," Marc's voice is hoarse from yelling, and he pulls Nathaniel down to give him a peck on the lips. "Nath, holy fuck."

"Y-yeah." Nathaniel slowly starts to pull out of Marc, who lets out a low whine. The artist collapses on the bed next to Marc, slinging an arm over the model's torso and pulling him close. Marc grunts and buries his face into Nathaniel's chest, while the redhead strokes his fingers through Marc's lush, raven locks.

* * *

It's a long while before either of them move again. Maybe thirty minutes, maybe more.

Marc can't blame them. He's exhausted and overstimulated, almost passing out during his orgasm from the intensity of it. Even now, his legs still feel like jello and his hole aches, coated with Nathaniel's load.

Nathaniel looks almost as wrecked as Marc feels. His red hair is a tangled mess, letting a hint of his second blue eye shine through. Disheveled and sweaty like this, he's downright gorgeous.

"Nath," Marc whispers, then licks his lips and grimaces. His throat still hurts a little. It feels like he's ripped out some of his vocal cords. Eh, that's apparently what a good fuck'll do to ya.

Nathaniel gives a little grunt to indicate that he's listening.

"We should probably clean up," the model says, pulling away. His limbs ache from the movement, and Marc knows he's gonna feel this tomorrow.

Nathaniel nods, sitting up with a yawn. "Mhm."

Marc slides off the edge of the bed and his legs instantly give out from under him. He falls with a surprised cry.

In a flash Nathaniel's there, helping him back to his feet, an arm under his shoulders to keep him supported. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Marc says, clutching Nathaniel's shoulder. "My legs are just...you know when I told you to fuck me until I can't walk, I didn't think you'd actually _do it_."

Nathaniel chuckles, a sheepish flush rising to his face. "Sorry-" he starts, but Marc cups his cheek with one hand, turning the redhead's face towards him and muffling his apology with a kiss.

Unlike the other kisses they've shared today, this one is soft and gentle, a surprising contrast to the adrenaline and the rough heat of before, but just as honest.

"Don't apologize," Marc says. "Just help me get to the shower."

Stumbling, Nathaniel helps Marc over to the bathroom, balancing between keeping Marc supported and leaning into the bathtub to turn on the showerhead. He sticks his hand under the water, testing the temperature, and then he helps Marc step in.

Marc grabs onto the handrail inside the bathtub as he sinks to the floor, legs shaking, letting the water rush over him, warm and comfortable. He feels Nathaniel step in behind him and sit down, stretching out his legs on either side of the model and wrapping his arms around his middle, pulling him against his chest.

Marc knows he feels more for Nathaniel than just sexual attraction. He's addicted to the artist's smile, his personality, how he cares so deeply for the things close to him. It's more clear now than ever why he feels this way, with Nathaniel carefully helping to wash the sticky, semi-dried cum from his stomach and the insides of his thighs, pressing a kiss to his back.

Marc sighs, leaning back into Nathaniel's, who wraps his arms around the model. "God, how did I get this lucky?" He murmurs, mostly to himself.

He can feel the quiet laugh reverberating in Nath's chest, barely audible over the sound of water. "That's my line."

Marc turns to look at Nathaniel. The artists has his wet hair tucked behind his ear, and two half-lidded blue eyes look steadily at Marc like he's the most incredible thing in the world.

The model turns around so he's facing Nath. "You really mean it?"

Nathaniel's hands settle on his waist, pulling the model onto his lap. "Marc, you're amazing in so many ways. Your creativity, your determination-whatever we are right now, I'm lucky to be there with you."

Marc's heart thuds, and he places his hands on the artist's shoulders. "Plus the sex, right?"

"Well," Nathaniel admits with a coy smile. "The sex is certainly a bonus."

Marc laughs at that. Nathaniel smiles up at him with such a light, happy expression on his soft lips, lips that Marc wants to kiss so badly.

Then he realizes he doesn't have to hold back his feelings anymore so he does, and Nathaniel responds eagerly. Marc shifts his body weight forward, pushing Nathaniel down until his back hits the bottom of the tub.

They part for breath, Nathaniel grinning up at Marc, hair dripping and eyes gleaming, shower water beating across the model's back and filling the room with steam.

"I hope you know," Marc purrs, "that I have plans to rail you just as hard as you've done to me."

The breath leaves Nathaniel's lungs in a rush, and his hands grip harder onto Marc's skin, slick with water. "Are we planning a round two, then?" He gasps, and Marc can already feel the other's cock twitch eagerly against his inner thigh. Maybe it's because he's waited so long for Nath to finally make a move, maybe it's because Nathaniel's eyes are gleaming and bright, hands squeezing his ass, hair splayed out on the bottom of the tub, but Marc's _very_ turned on right now.

"We'll leave the railing for round four or five," Marc muses, running a hand down Nath's smooth, water slick chest, fingers twirling around the artist's few red chest hairs, barely visible against his creamy skin. "But I have ideas for round two."

He clambers off of Nathaniel's lap, a somewhat difficult thing to do given the small space in the tub and the fact his legs are still a little wobbly, but he gets to his feet, one hand on the safety railing as he helps Nath up, too.

Pressing his lips against his throat, Marc pins the artist against the wall, one leg hooking over his hip. Nathaniel holds the leg steady, bracing a foot against the wall of the tub and one hand against the railing so they don't fall, while Marc attacks Nathaniel's' neck with his mouth.

Nathaniel groans, bucking his hips to grind against Marc as the model nips the skin above his collarbone, soothing it with his tongue, sucking a large, purple bruise into his neck.

" _Marc_ ," the redhead whines, gasping.

"I have so many plans for you," Marc whispers into his ear, and Nathaniel shivers. "I could sit on your lap and fuck myself on your cock until you come in me again."

"Ha- _fuck, Marc-_ "

"Or what if I had you on your hands and knees, teasing your hole with my lips, watching you buck and moan while I fucked you with my tongue?" Marc's voice trembles a little as Nathaniel's back arches, squeezing his eyes shut.

"That's-ah, _Marc_ -that's hot," Nathaniel pants for breath.

"So many choices," the raven-haired man muses playfully, nails lightly scraping across Nath's jaw as he pulls away. "But you had plans, too, didn't you? Plans involving my "pretty pink lips", as you called it."

Nathaniel sucks in a breath as Marc pulls his leg from the artist's grip, then starts pressing kisses to Nathaniel's chest, his ribcage, his stomach-

" _Oh, fuck,_ " Nath breathes, as Marc props himself up on his knees, taking the artist's dick in his hand and slowly stroking it to full hardness.

"Bet I can guess what one of those plans might be," Marc smirks, before leaning in and taking Nathaniel's cock in his mouth.

Nathaniel sputters for breath as Marc slowly moves forward, taking him all in one smooth motion.

"Fuck," the artist wheezes. "Fuck, _fuck, yes, Marc, holy shit-_ "

Marc starts moving and Nathaniel's words dissolve into a beautiful symphony of moans and half-choked noises. One of the redhead's hands tangles into his hair, lightly tugging, and Marc lets out a muffled moan around Nathaniel's cock.

Nathaniel whines and thrusts against Marc, deeper into his throat. Marc's tongue licks up the shaft, catching the taste of pre-cum at the tip, moaning as he sucks Nathaniel like he's never sucked anyone before, the redhead hot in his mouth, pace quickening.

Marc's not dragging things out this time. He's had enough of waiting and teasing. Nathaniel apparently feels the same, if the loud moans and frantic thrusting to meet the model's mouth halfway are anything to go by.

Marc slots a hand between his legs and starts to pump his own dick furiously while the artist fucks himself into his mouth, nearly reaching to the back of his throat but Marc manages to keep himself from choking.

" _Marc, I'm close, fuck-_ "

Marc hears Nathaniel's loud cry over the sound of rushing water and the blood pumping in his ears. He groans as Nathaniel plunges his cock into his mouth and comes, filling him with the hot load, dribbling out of his lips and down his throat and he can taste his cum, swallowing him down, and it's all too much and soon Marc's coming, too, spilling across the floor of the tub.

His entire body feels like it's been turned to jelly, and his head feels like it's full of cotton and fuzz as he moans around the artist's softening cock, and then he's back and Nathaniel's clutching the support railing like a lifeline, his other hand slowly untangling from Marc's hair. He can still feel the sting from where the artist had pulled a bit too hard, but it's slowly fading.

"Marc, you're-ha, fuck-" the artist groans.

Marc slides off the member with a wet 'pop', grinning as Nathaniel slumps to the ground in front of him, red and shaking, a hint of drool trailing from the corner of his mouth.

As the last remains of cum swirl down the drain, Nathaniel's eyes slowly come back into focus.

"C'mere," he grumbles, reaching for Marc and pulling him into a hug.

Marc laughs. "I should have guessed you were a cuddler," he teases, kissing the artist's cheek, his taste still present on his lips.

The redhead grumbles something unintelligible, pressing his face into Marc's wet hair.

Marc really wants to stay there, held by Nathaniel, letting the water spatter across their bodies as exhaustion starts to drag at his senses.

It's about five minutes before his sensibilities come back to him.

"Nath," Marc says, voice light. "I know it's nice here, but I'm not a fan of running out my hot water."

Regretfully, Nath lets him go, and the two of them finish cleaning up. Marc manages to stumble on his own two feet through the house, grabbing new bedsheets while Nathaniel tries to help but keeps getting shooed away by the model, so he ends up trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

"It's late," Marc notes with surprise as he checks the time.

Nathaniel nods, holding up his clothes. "My pants and underwear are a little...eh...I'm not keen on putting them on again. Do you have any spare clothes I can borrow?"

"I'll find something," Marc says. "Might be a little tight on you but if you want to stay the night I can put your clothes in the wash and have them ready by sometime tomorrow."

Nathaniel kisses his cheek, and even though they've had plenty of shameless kisses by now, Marc's cheeks turn pink.

"You're a sap," the model grumbles, grabbing one of his oversized nightshirts and throwing it at Nathaniel.

"You like it," Nathaniel responds.

Marc huffs. "Should have made you take me out to dinner first," he says.

Nathaniel wraps his arms around Marc's waist. "I'll take you out to lunch tomorrow. How does that sound?"

Marc taps a finger to his lips. "What if you took me on a proper romantic date sometime?"

"As many romantic dates as you like."

"What if I asked you to take me to the most expensive restaurant in the city?"

"I'd start taking commissions to pay for it."

"What if-"

"Marc." Nathaniel presses his forehead against the model's. "I'd give you sun and moon if you asked me for them."

Marc swallows against the beating of his heart. "What if I asked you to be my boyfriend?"

Nathaniel grins, sweet and honest. "I'd say yes," he responds, linking his fingers with Marc's.

Marc sighs. "That's good to hear."

As he crawls into bed, pulling Nathaniel close as they drift off into a blissful sleep, Marc sleeps easy, his mind full of fuzzy feelings and ideas, story ideas, photo ideas, horny ideas...

Sleep catches him before any of those ideas become fully coherent.

* * *

Nathaniel and Marc stand in front of Mr. Carracci after class the next morning. Marc hugs his robe, fidgeting nervously, and Nathaniel can't bring himself to look into his teacher's eyes.

"Nathaniel," Mr. Carracci finally says, face expressionless.

"Y-yes, sir?" Nathaniel says, voice trembling a little as the art teacher fixes an intense stare his way.

"I'm glad to see you two boys have figured things out," the teacher says calmly. "However," he looks to Marc, who squeaks and turns red under his scrutiny. "I would like to kindly suggest that perhaps you don't leave any...evidence of your relations, especially before a nude figure drawing class."

Nathaniel doesn't know whether he should burst out laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all or curl up in a ball and die of shame.

"Or," the teacher says, raising an eyebrow. "You could always use makeup to disguise any bruising."

Marc nods. "Of course, sir," he says, his voice quiet.

Mr. Carracci nods. "Congratulations, you two," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You can go now."

Nathaniel dips his head respectfully. "I'll wait for you outside," he says to the model, and Marc smiles.

His face is beet red as he exits the room, hugging his bag to his chest.

Some of the art students are milling around in the hallway, trying to look like they weren't gossiping about him and failing miserably.

It's not long before Marc walks out, too, fully clothed and a similar shade of red on his cheeks.

They take one look at each other and burst out laughing.

"Oh, no," Nathaniel wheezes, grabbing his boyfriend's hand. "That was-that was one of the most embarrassing things I've ever had to face a teacher about."

"At-at least it was Mr. Carracci," Marc giggles.

"Oh my god-you-when you just sat down all covered in bruises-" Nathaniel gasped for breath, tears leaking from his eyes and face hurting from how much he was grinning. "How did you manage to keep a straight face?!"

"You should have seen de Grammont's face!" Marc clutches his side, cackling.

"I did! Ah, I should have gotten a picture, ha!"

They're making a bit of a scene outside of the art room, but neither of them care, clutching each other and laughing.

"Fuck," Nathaniel gasps, once he's calm enough to step away and wipe his eyes. "Man, that was...that was something."

"You definitely owe me lunch now."

"Yeah, yeah." Nathaniel squeezes his boyfriend's hand, eyes glittering with mirth and tears. "Guess that "round four or five" will have to wait for a weekend, huh?"

Marc pulls him down the hallway. "I don't know," he says, grinning from ear to ear. "I might take Mr. Carracci's makeup idea, you don't know."

"Can't wait," Nathaniel laughs, half-jogging to keep up with the model's long strides.

One thing's for certain, their modeling and photoshoot sessions were going to get _a lot_ more interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> This was not supposed to be 15k words. It was supposed to be a short oneshot.
> 
> At this point I shouldn't really be surprised.


End file.
